


The Truth Will Set You Free

by TheRoseDuelist



Series: The Apprentice Reversed [5]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Gender-Neutral Apprentice (The Arcana), Heartbreak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23325136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRoseDuelist/pseuds/TheRoseDuelist
Summary: You thought you were both on the same page.
Relationships: Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana), Apprentice/Nadia (The Arcana), Nadia (The Arcana)/Reader
Series: The Apprentice Reversed [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567798
Comments: 2
Kudos: 86





	The Truth Will Set You Free

You sip your tea, the clink of the porcelain cup on the saucer the only sound in the otherwise silent sitting room. You glance at the clock. It’s 15:00. And yet you are the only one in the room.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you wonder if you got the time wrong. No, that’s impossible. You confirmed with Portia when leaving your quarters. You are positive that the Treasury meeting is at 15:00pm.

Which could only mean the location has changed.

Rising from the sofa, you hurry out of the sitting room into the hallway. Of course, it’s empty. Just your luck. Where is the chamberlain — who seems to usually be everywhere — when you need him?

You shuffle down the passageway, eyes darting left and right, anxiety bouncing in your stomach. You hate being late, especially to these government meetings. Already the officials look down on your presence. You have no qualifications other than your keen interest and status as the Countess’ partner. Being late will only give them another reason to detest your attendance and attempt to ignore your comments.

Turning the corner, you see Portia and the chamberlain mid-argument. Relief bursts through you as you hurry over.

“Portia!” You call out. You don’t care that you’re interrupting. Portia will understand.

The young woman’s eyes dart to you. First, she smiles, but then her expression morphs into one of confusion. “Y/N? Why aren’t you with the Countess?”

“I seem to have gotten the wrong room.” You grimace. “Do you know where they’re holding the meeting?”

“Oh shoot.” Portia wrinkles her nose. “I’ll take you over to the west wing’s dining hall right now.”

A ‘tut-tut-tut’ sound causes both of you to turn to the chamberlain. He shakes his head, his shaggy hair flinging left and right. “The Countess commanded that they not be disturbed.”

“It’s Y/N for god’s sake,” Portia shoots back. “Of course she can go in.”

“The Countess was insistent.”

Portia is about to respond, her cheeks reddening, when you wave your hand. “It’s fine, Portia. I’ll just...wait.”

You give her a helpless smile and take your leave, heading for the gardens. You hope that the fresh air will breeze away some of the sting of the annoyance now sitting in your stomach.

The Countess commanded that they not be disturbed.

It sounded like Nadia hadn’t made an exception for you. She must have forgotten. But that didn’t seem likely. She knew that you wanted to attend these meetings, that this was important to you. It was one of the things you’d shared with her before meeting the Devil. You made a promise that the two of you would change Vesuvia for the better once all was said and done. 

And yet, here you are, alone, shut out. You sigh, resigned. You’ll just have to discuss it with Nadia once she finishes. Surely there will be a reason.

An hour passes and you hear the slight crunch of grass come from behind you. Still irritated, you look over your shoulder to see your beloved Countess stepping across the manicured lawn, her lavender robes swishing this way and that as she glides towards you. Normally, you’d be awed by her majesty. Right now though, you’re simply unhappy.

“What’s wrong, my love?”

“I wanted to be at the meeting.” You say. “I was told that you had ordered to not be disturbed.”

She takes a seat next to you on the stone bench. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to keep you from attending. I just wanted to keep them focused and ensure we actually got things done. You know how they can go off on a tangent unless properly guided.”

You twitch your nose. That’s hard to argue with. You’re aware that the financial officers constantly worry about the economic stability of Vesuvia and blather on about worst-case scenarios, not unlike Volta repeating the neverending list of food items she’d devoured since waking.

“Why wasn’t I told there was a change in the location?”

“I’m sure it was lost in translation. That’s all,” she reaches out to run her fingers through your hair.

You lean into her hand and close your eyes, enjoying her touch. It calms you. “Well, promise me it won’t happen again?”

“Of course, my pet.” She brushes your hair out of your face. Then she leans closer and taps your nose with hers. “Now, how would you like to spend some time alone before dinner?”

You can’t help but smile and a blush rises in your cheeks as she winks at you mischievously.

A week passes and you miss not one, but two more city government meetings. You bring it up with Nadia but she brushes it aside, citing last-minute changes and poor communication amongst her staff. She promises that the chamberlain will be the first to tell you of any changes in the future since you usually don’t see Nadia during the day unless it’s at these meetings.

It doesn’t make you feel better. In fact, it makes you nervous. A little annoyed. You don’t like feeling pandered too. 

So you decide to stick to Nadia like glue. It’s important to you to have a say in the direction of Vesuvia post-plague and post-Lucio. You fear that Nadia doesn’t quite understand what the citizens of Vesuvia need and you don’t really know how to communicate that to her without offending her. After all, her life in the palace is much different from the life of a family of four living in a single two-room apartment worried about not having enough income to pay rent, groceries, and keep the kids in school. It’s not that you don’t trust her to think in the best interests of her people, but with what she doesn’t know, she can’t. And certainly, the others on the council won’t be helpful as they’re all amongst the wealthy class.

You have come to despise them just as they detest you. For you watch them kiss Nadia’s rings and favor her every desire. They never speak against her, playing devoted subjects in order to secure their own interests. 

It sickens you. You wonder if this is what it was like when Lucio was the Count. Beauracracy, corruption, no thought to the working class. All they want is to live in the lap of luxury regardless of who must suffer the consequences of their indulgence.

What bothers you further is that Nadia doesn’t seem to mind. She is all too aware of their games, but she seems to...enjoy it. You remark on this, but she laughs and whispers to you that she is toying with them. And she’ll do as she pleases regardless of their entreaties.

It sends a shiver up your spine.

And so you remain at Nadia’s side. You attend the treasury meeting, the trade council, even the public works conference. And you are ecstatic to contribute despite the glares you receive from the other attendees. You feel confident in your abilities. It’s...exhilarating. You’re doing exactly what you wanted to do: helping others.

Then you disagree with her. 

It happens in the treasury meeting. The discussion is about taxes. The Countess insists that the answer lies in tax cuts for the poor to stimulate the city’s economy. The officers of the treasury rally around her and agree in a chorus of nasally voices.

You disagree. Silence falls. You present your case, forcing yourself to stay firm although your blood roars in your ears and heart pounds in your throat. You have to fight for working people. You know that tax cuts won’t help in the long run. There need to be different tax rates based on the amount of income that is gained per year. And you explain this to the best of your ability.

You field two questions from one of the attendees and you answer them well, shooting down what you know is a loaded inquiry. You feel a surge of pride within yourself; you studied for this moment. You won’t be outdone because your education didn’t match up to theirs. You did your research and this is your moment to shine.

“I applaud you for shining light on the issue, but I have decided that tax cuts are the proposal to pursue.” Her voice is steady as she captures everyone’s attention.

“But they will hurt the working-class families in the city. There has to be another way.”

“And we’ll revisit the issue in a year’s time.”

You open your mouth to protest when she looks at you with a hardened gaze and states, “That’s enough. The discussion is over.”

You have no idea what has happened. You are both furious and humiliated. She dismissed you like a child and gave no consideration to your proposal. And she knew how long you had spent preparing for the meeting. She had witnessed your late nights pouring over documents, meeting with academics, reading about taxation systems in other cities.

And yet in the blink of an eye, you were rejected.

Neither of you speaks of it for the rest of the day. You make it through dinner, cordial, yet cold and then retire to the sitting room.

“Darling, how’s your shop?” Nadia asks from her position on the chaise. She lounges lazily, already a glass deep in sherry.

You look up from the novel you are reading and cock your head to the side, maintaining the polite mood. “It’s fine. I do need to find a new helper because Charlene wants to go see her family in Novus next month and Asra won’t be back until the following month.”

“Why don’t you take up the position? I know you’ve mentioned you miss it.” She takes her glass of sherry and brings it to her lips.

You blink, taken aback. “I like being there on the weekends but my place is here. With you.”

“I know, but I do think it might be beneficial for you to…” She swirls her glass, looking at the dark red liquid.

“Just say what you mean, Nadia.” Your hands tighten around the book in your possession. So this is what it has come too.

“Don’t be like that. I just think it would be good for you to have other interests besides those in the palace. It would be good for us. Balance.”

“You mean you don’t want me around being involved with governing Vesuvia.” You slam your book shut. “Right? After what happened today?”

“I didn’t say that.” She sits up and purses her lips, straightening her back and assuming the haughty air that has become her second nature in the past month. And you definitely don’t like it.

You can feel your anger grow and your eyes flash. “Speak plainly. You don’t want me at those meetings.”

“You have taken over much of the conversations.”

“Or rather you don’t like being disagreed with.”

“I always encourage everyone to voice their opinions.”

“Oh really? Then why did you silence me today?” You toss your book to the side and rise to your feet. “You knew I had prepared for that meeting, you knew what I was going to say, and yet you shot me down. And when I tried to speak up, you silenced me. Was it all a game for you?”

“You do not know what it takes to run a kingdom and you need to be reigned in.” She stands and narrows her eyes at you.

“So, you agree with those parasites. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. You are supposed to be better than them.” Your eyes flash and your skin gets hot.

She hisses and points a finger in your face. “I will not be spoken to like that.”

“You lied to me. You said that we would change this city together. And yet now you’re keeping me out because I’m not smart enough? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I am your Countess and you will do what I command!”

Silence.

Your anger implodes inside you and you tremble with rage. But your voice hovers just above a whisper: “That’s how you see us? Our relationship? Ruler and subject?” 

Her lips crease into a line, her eyes icy.

The silence is answer enough.

“Then I’ll leave you here in your palace and take my spot with the rest of the people,” you snap and whirl out of the room.

You storm through the hallway, waiting to hear her call after you, asking you to stop, but it doesn’t happen.

In your room you quickly pack the clothes you have into a bag, leaving all the refinery Nadia has showered you with behind. You don’t want anything from her. You don’t need anything from her. Because it’s all a lie. You went to the ends of the earth and back, and you thought that was enough, but it was a lie.

And yet you still wait for her to appear in the doorway and apologize and pull you back into her arms and promise you that you are equals and that you two will change the face of Vesuvia for the better and that she was wrong and she will never treat you in such a way again.

She does not come.

Your feet lead you to the gates of the palace and the guards nod at you as you pass. You remember the first time you came to the palace and they were rude to you. Nadia had defended your honor when she heard of the incident.

It makes you sick to your stomach how much has changed. 

You make it to your shop by midnight. Quickly you undo the spells and unlock the door, throwing yourself inside and locking it behind you. And that’s when it hits you.

You break into tears. They’re plentiful, streaming down your cheeks, hot and fast. You feel them pouring out of you, feel the sadness crushing your chest, suffocating you. Making you wish that you could pull your heart out and be numb to the excruciating agony created by Nadia breaking your heart. 

You loved her with all your heart and yet somewhere along the way, she changed her mind.

You climb the stairs to the loft. You’re grateful that Asra is gone. You don’t think you can handle seeing another person on this night. You can’t fathom the idea of informing someone else that the person you believed was the love of your life just stomped on your heart and threw it away without any second thought.

Pulling at your clothes, you change into pajamas and slip into the empty bed, sobs consuming you. How could she do this to you? How could she shut you out of everything you wanted? She had promised you that the two of you would be partners. And yet she tried to control you, demanded you bow to her like everyone else, all the while plying you with affection to remind you of the special position you held. 

That’s when it dawns on you.

You are her pet. And she said it herself. You just...missed it.

You are a pet.

That echoes through you, stabbing at your insides. You aren’t good enough to be someone’s equal. You are only good enough to be pampered and placated and used for affection and entertainment when needed. 

Come to think of it, Asra does the same thing with you, doesn’t he? He doesn’t tell you where he goes, or the purpose of his journeys, and when he comes back he demands your time and attention, as if you have no other plans or responsibilities to attend to. Because your wants, needs, desires don’t matter.

Your stomach turns. You want to vomit. The hard truth sings you to sleep and the tears dry on your cheeks. You’re grateful for the impending nothingness; it will stop the pain for a few hours. Because as your eyes flutter and your body sinks into sleep’s embrace, you know that the heartbreak will hurt you for days, weeks, months to come.

But what will truly haunt you is the knowledge that you could’ve stayed and tried to change Nadia. Convinced her that her behavior and her decisions are driving her down a treacherous path. Because you know that leaving Nadia alone with those corrupt sycophants is a sentence to becoming the thing she loathed the most.

A tyrant.


End file.
